Swiftcurrent Creek trying to find the stars in rear-view mirrors

She pushed through the underbrush, the dull crackle of snapping branches ceasing slowly as she pulled herself fully from the space. For a moment, she was still, surveying the little clearing she'd come to claim. Evening was just beginning to fall, night shrouding the snows, and a heavy cold silenced all. There was a dampness in the air that made the chill bone-deep, and the woman felt it's touch even under her mantle of silver.

The winter had made her lean and sinewy, the cold had made her hungry. The plunging temperatures of the last few days had made her especially motivated to hunt, and with one more glance at the spaces between the trees, she moved off through the snow. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she'd find another loner to entice into a hunt, or some prey would blunder into her path.